


The Rise of Dan Ashcroft:  A Revistory

by concupiscence66



Category: Nathan Barley (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-18 03:30:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4690487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/concupiscence66/pseuds/concupiscence66
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sugar Ape is celebrating its 30th anniversary and Nathan is revisiting its history, or creating a revistory, for a video package.  What will he learn from the story of Dan Ashcroft?  (Nothing.  The answer is absolutely nothing).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

2014

Jonatton Yeah? smiles as he views the footage. It’s a proper smile, one born of happiness rather than irony. Sugar Ape is about to turn thirty. She’s getting long in the tooth, but she has survived longer than anyone thought possible. She’s a bit like Madonna. And like Madonna, she has undergone many changes, survived endless scandals (most self-generated), and no one who has been with her – however briefly – has been able to truly leave her behind.

Dan Ashcroft keeps threatening to leave, but he’s still at his desk. He looks (and smells) like a tramp and he hasn’t cracked a smile in months, but he’s still plugging away.

On Jonatton’s computer screen, a much younger Dan is laughing and dancing. Jonatton remembers when Dan came aboard. He’d been almost embarrassingly keen back then, so in love with the Shoreditch lifestyle.

 

1994

Dan Ashcroft isn’t a man, he’s a movement. He’s a moment. He is the nineties. He doesn’t own a shirt that isn’t missing at least one button, because he doesn’t give a shit about materialism. Everything he owns is second-hand.

Except his Chuck Taylors. He has to buy those new, because he has big feet and Chuck Taylors don’t hold up very well. 

Otherwise, Dan Ashcroft lives the life of a true artist. He doesn’t pay rent, he rarely buys food, and he never buys drinks. All of his money goes to Chuck Taylors, CDs, and drugs. Dan Ashcroft is Sugar Ape.

And that’s what he tells the stuffed shirt sitting across from him.

“Sugar Ape needs Dan Ashcroft. I remember when Sugar Ape was edgy, when you didn’t know what the hell you would see when you opened the magazine. Now you know you’re going to see some wink-wink article about how heroin is bad but we all love it, and then turn the page to some actress dressed like a sexy Nazi talking about how what she really wants is a husband and kids. The cover promises something a bit dirty, but you open it up and everything is sanitized for our protection.”

Teddy Bayer leans back in his chair and tries to stare Dan down. Dan meets his gaze straight on. He wants to work for Sugar Ape more than anything in the world. It has been his dream since he was a teenager (wanking to the ever-present topless photos), but he won’t beg. If Teddy asks Dan to suck his dick, he’ll be on his knees in a second; that kind of debasement he can handle. Dan will let Teddy bend him over the desk if that’s what it takes to get the job, but he will never, ever suck up to a stuffed shirt.

“You’re a good writer, you’ve got a good look, the arrogant prick attitude is very in right now…” Teddy lets the sentence trail off.

“I know you want to say ‘but,’ but there’s no ‘but,’” Dan assures him. “I am the man you need. I am the man you need right now.”

Teddy nods. “You may be right. But what about next year, and the year after that? I have enough flavor-of-the-month types. What I’m wondering is if you have any staying power?”

Teddy is past his prime, and his once-amusing name now highlights his complete lack of sex appeal. He is a sexless old man in a young person’s world.

Dan gives him a wink and a leer and answers, “I can last as long as you need me to.”

Teddy’s cheeks flush, and Dan knows he has the job. Dan Ashcroft’s life has finally begun.


	2. Chapter 2

2014

“Hey, Sugar Tits. I have something in my pocket that is going to put a smile on your face,” Nathan announces as he struts into the office. He’s wearing what Claire thinks of as his “Miami Gangster” look. Nathan has been working on his arms, and they are well-defined but absurdly pasty in his sleeveless shirt and against his pastel outfit. Naturally, he is wearing a fedora because the fedora is the current trend among assholes. The trend makes Claire sad, because she quite likes fedoras.

“I do not want to go near anything you have in your pocket,” Claire assures him (not for the first time). “It isn’t as exciting as you seem to think.”

“I’m not talking about my cock. I said it would make you smile, not see God.”

Claire glares as Nathan leers, but she lets it go. For Nathan, it was a fairly tame dick joke.

“What have you got that can make me smile after spending four hours trying to edit Doug Rocket’s ramblings into a coherent interview?”

Nathan sits down and rolls his seat until he is unnecessarily close to Claire before holding up a memory stick.

“Sugar Ape is turning thirty, and they want us to put together a package revisiting their history. A revistory, if you will.”

Claire sighs. “Nathan, revistory sounds like you’re planning to revise history.”

Nathan throws his arm around Claire’s shoulders, resting his hand too close to her breast for comfort.

“Stop being such an Ashcroft for a moment and enjoy the magic.”

Claire pushes his hand away, but plugs the memory stick into her laptop. She nearly falls out of her chair when Dan’s face fills the screen. He is baby-faced and very clearly shit-faced. His little eyes are red, as is his nose. Claire laughs until she in tears as Nathan begs her to be quiet so he can hear what Dan has to say, as though Dan could ever be heard over the blaring Ace of Base in the background.

“Look at Preach! What’s going on with his hair?” Nathan is clearly enthralled. His eyes are wide with amazement as he beholds Dan’s mid-nineties glory. 

Claire wipes the tears from her eyes as she says, “Those would be box braids. That was probably Jones.”

“Why would Jones be braiding Dan’s hair? They weren’t fucking yet, were they?”

“Don’t be gross, Nathan. Jones used to be a stylist at Stanley Knives.”

Nathan’s mouth falls open. “Fuck me with a rusty pipe. That must have been mental!”

1994

Every time a Spice Girls song plays, a piece of Jones’s soul breaks off and falls to the floor, and then a man named “He” comes by and sweeps it up.

His next customer is already in the chair. His thrift shop clothes are too short in the leg and at the wrist, and his t-shirt is ironic. His curly hair is shellacked into place with a product reminiscent of epoxy. If he’d gone with a bedhead barnet, he’d almost pull off his gangly scarecrow look, but the hair is the proof that he’s trying, and it ruins any chance of looking unaffected and therefore cool.

“What look are you hoping to create today?” Jones asks in the weary voice Stanley Knives favors.

“Well, I just accepted a position as a writer for Sugar Ape, so…”

Jones keeps his face neutral. He’s done a lot of work for Sugar Ape. He’s styled them for their dreadful photo shoots. 

“So I think it’s time for a new look. Something with a big of edge, but not trying to be cool or any of that bullshit.”

Jones remains neutral. There is no greater crime than appearing to want to look cool. Shoreditch is full of people who spend hours trying to look like they just stumbled out of bed.

“Any suggestions?” the man asks. He seems to be shrinking into his seat. Jones had pegged him at about twenty-eight, but he suddenly looks younger.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-four?”

“What’s your name?”

“Dan? Dan Ashcroft?”

“We’ll strip your hair, then dye it dark purple. It will look like your hair is the same, but then POW!, it’s actually purple. Mental. Subtle. Edgy.”

“How much would that cost?” Dan asks. He looks nervous but intrigued. 

“If you have to ask, I don’t think you can afford it.”

“Sounds great. Do it,” Dan says with a weak effort at cockiness. Jones smiles for the first time since arriving at work. His tables will be getting a serious upgrade, and Dan Ashcroft will be eating pot noodles for a week. Jones feels a few bits of his soul returning to his body. Coloring Dan’s hair purple will take hours, but at least he’ll be able to call it a day when he’s done. Most days, he drinks a pot of coffee and takes in as many clients as he can to save up for a workspace he’s been eyeing. He hopes to start DJing on a regular basis, but he needs better equipment and more practice. Shoreditch is full of half-assed DJs, so he needs to bring something different to the tables if he wants to make a living. 

Today, he just wants to go home and get away from the very concept of ‘cool.’

“We should start by washing out that hair gel,” Jones says before touching Dan’s hair. It is rock solid with product. “Might need a bit of paint thinner.”

“It’s… curly.” Dan makes it sound like a sordid confession.

Jones shrugs and points out that curls are cool. The look of gratitude on Dan’s face is disarming. As much as Jones wants to hate the idiots that fill Stanley Knives, they are so full of desperation and fear. They all want so badly so be someone.

Jones gets Dan’s life story as he bleaches his dark hair white, so that it can be dyed purple. Dan’s Northern accent gets stronger as he talks about life in Leeds. Jones only speaks enough to keep Dan going. Idiots are always desperate to talk about their ambitions, as though saying them out loud will make them a reality. Dan is no exception, except for the fact that he has actually landed a precious berth at Sugar Ape with apparently no inside help. He must be talented, because he isn’t nearly pretty enough to be window dressing. He’s handsome and quite sexy in a rough around the edges kind of way, but he’s no Sugar Ape pretty boy.

Dan is endearing when he talks about his family. Although he is older than Jones, he is very much a kid when he talks about the plan he made with his family to move away. For all his efforts at being cool, Dan seems oblivious to how bourgeois he sounds when discussing how his mother had him create a budget based on the average expenditures of life in London that she found on the internet. Dan Ashcroft is neither a trust-fund kid nor a rebel flying the coop. He politely left the coop with his parents’ blessings and his money in his sock, in case he got mugged. Of the idiots Jones grooms that day, he finds Dan Ashcroft the least distasteful. 

Xxx

Dan stares at the mirror in a state of shock. His hair looks the same but completely different. His dull brown hair is slightly darker and looks almost black from a distance. It makes his skin look porcelain white, darkens his eyes, and makes his cheekbones pop. As usual, his hair is sticking out in every direction, but in a manner reminiscent of a bed-headed rock star rather than a tramp in a wind tunnel.

“How?” is all he can ask.

“You have to respect the curl,” Jones observes like a wise old monk as he musses Dan’s hair a bit more. Each movement makes Dan’s hair look even more perfect. 

He doesn’t flinch at the bill. He had prepared himself for worse. At his parents’ urging, he saved up enough to survive for six months without income. He still has four months of savings, and he’s already landed an amazing job. He sees the haircut as an investment, and a wise one at that.

Dan looks in the mirror and he sees someone who belongs at Sugar Ape: someone who is young, sexy, and cool. At some point, he went from playing the role of a hot commodity and became the genuine article. 

“Remember the story of Narcissus.” It’s hard to tell if Jones is joking, but there is a twinkle in his eyes that contrasts with his bland expression.

Jones gives Dan a real smile when he gets his generous tip, and Dan whistles the whole way home.


	3. Chapter 3

2014

Sasha cringes when Nathan walks through the door. She doesn’t have to look up; she knows the sound of his shoes. They have air pockets to give him better air time, just in case he ever plays a game of basketball.

“Angel face, do you have a…?”

Sasha immediately interrupts him. “I am very busy, Nathan.”

“You don’t look busy.”

“Maybe you’d like to do my job for a week?” Sasha suggests in her coldest tone, the one guaranteed to shrink Nathan’s balls like a trip to the beach in October. “Then I can run around with a camera, interrupting people.”

Sasha isn’t busy, but she is the most important person in the office. There are people who write, take pictures, draw cartoons, and sell ad space, but no one is as important as Sasha, because she is the only thing standing between their ‘creative’ endeavors and the real world. She and Jonatton Yeah? are the only people in the office who are required to care that Sugar Ape is a business and not an actual playground. She also has dirt on every person in the office, allowing her job security in a youth-obsessed environment. Sasha, unlike Dan Ashcroft, knows that Nathan and Claire spent a month hooking up in Nathan’s office before the younger Ashcroft either came to her senses or perhaps developed an allergy to Nathan’s overwhelming body spray. Either way, the affair is over, but if Dan finds out, Nathan might actually be murdered. Sasha does not hate Nathan. He is just another twat in a long series of twats to work for Sugar Ape, but Sasha has been at the magazine too long to put up with his bullshit. 

“C’mon, Sasha. I have a big assignment from Yeah?,” Nathan pleads. “I need to get interviews with the old staffers like you, people who have been here a million years and all that shit. I’m filming a revistory of Sugar Ape.”

“A revised history of Sugar Ape?” 

“No, a revisiting of the history… It’s a documentary about Sugar Ape and I need your beautiful face to balance out all the ugly old cock farts around here.”

Sasha taps the button that sends all the calls to a third-party answering system, a button that would make her redundant if she didn’t have shit on every person in the office, and says, “Fine. What do you want me to say?”

On Sasha’s first day on the job, Dan Ashcroft was already a minor celebrity. Among all the faux edge of Sugar Ape, his articles had real teeth. His profile of “Mina” had caused a national stir. Everyone had a theory about her true identity and was looking for confirmation, but Dan was resolutely tight-lipped. 

Like the majority of the men at the magazine, Dan immediately began pursuing Sasha, but unlike anyone else, he actually managed to get Sasha to meet him outside of the office. While others promised gifts, wild parties, or a leg up in the industry, Dan went for Sasha’s true weak spot: her love of gossip.

His hair was freshly bleached blond at the time, and he was wearing a ‘Suicidal Tendencies” t-shirt under his blazer; he couldn’t have been less appealing to Sasha if he’d tried, but he said the magic words. 

“I’ll tell you about Mina.”

It was their first and last date. 

“What was your first impression of the Preacher Man?” Nathan asked.

Sasha looks into the camera and lies. “I don’t remember. He was one of the busier writers, but I had no personal opinion.”

Xxx

Sasha agrees to meet at Dan’s flat because he needs to be ‘cautious’ about sharing his story. Sasha makes sure he is aware that she doesn’t trust him as far as she can throw him, and that she has been taking self-defense classes since puberty, but he is not put off. In the office, he is a cocky prick, but when he greets Sasha at the door, he makes a point of respecting her personal space and is never between her and the door (something she has learned the hard way to keep track of). After five months of working at Sugar Ape, the gentlemanly behavior is a refreshing break from the constant feeling of having just walked into a bachelor party that has gone out of control.

He offers her wine or beer, but gives her the seltzer water she requests without comment. He tries to make small talk, but Sasha pins him down right away.

“Don’t beat around the bush, Dan. You promised to tell me the real story.”

Dan frowns and opens and closes his mouth a few times before saying, “It’s complicated, you see…”

“You made the whole thing up. I knew it!”

“It was Nori.”

Sasha shook her head. “You’re lying. You made it up for attention. There is no Mina, and she certainly isn’t fucking Nori! You already wrote a cover story on Nori and her perfect life.”

Dan nodded. “I wrote the story I was supposed to write, and then a few months later I wrote the story Jonatton wouldn’t let me publish until I changed Nori’s name.”

Sasha says, “Bullshit,” but she can tell it isn’t. Dan has lost all his Sugar Ape (and probably drug induced) hyperactivity. His eyes are clear and, for once, sincere.

Dan nods and nervously plays with his newly yellow hair. “Yeah, it’s bullshit. I’m sorry I wasted your time…”

“Why would one of the most famous models in the world want to suck your dick for coke? She must have more money than God.”

Dan adopts his usual look of smug superiority, but Sasha can see the effort.

“She has an expensive habit. A really, really, really expensive habit.”

“You assholes at Sugar Ape inhale cocaine like a bunch of Hoovers,” Sasha points out. “And all of you together aren’t making her salary.”

“We also aren’t doing our lines on our private jets,” Dan wryly interjects. “She owed money to everyone, some of her accounts were frozen, people were threatening to go to the papers if she didn’t pay the money she owed, her people were trying to cut off her access to drugs, but she was still buying up the bar and flying her entourage all over the planet any time she had a whim. She was a fucking mess.”

As he speaks, the ironic detachment slips from Dan’s face and tone until he looks shocked, disgusted, and saddened, all at the same time. Sasha has never seen him looking so human.

What had made the article about Mina stand out from his other work was the way it had begun with Dan’s usual snarky, cooler-than-thou tone as he described an ‘up and coming’ model, Mina, he’d interviewed while preparing to interview Nori. He is full of sickening bravado as he describes impressing the girl with his high quality “powder” and how a few lines led to her giving him a blowjob in the back of a black cab. There is a sudden and jarring change in tone when Mina asks about Dan’s source and ultimately offers more sexual favors in exchange for more cocaine. There is real skill in how Dan allows the reader to follow his shift from cocaine-induced arrogance and self-absorption into the hollow, sick feeling of realizing his carefree party girl is actually prostituting herself to feed an addiction. The line that always sticks with Sasha is, “I have always considered myself to be a good person, and yet here I was, just another predator.”

“And Jonatton wouldn’t let you print the truth?” That was the strangest part of the tale. Jonatton lives for controversy. It doesn’t make sense that he would sacrifice such a golden opportunity for the magazine.

Dan rakes his fingers through his hair, causing it to stand up at odd angles. “He’d made concessions to her people that he didn’t bother to tell me about until after the fact.”

“Concessions? What concessions?”

“We wouldn’t write about the drinking, drugs, eating disorder, sex addiction, money problems, married boyfriends, her real age…”

“No wonder that cover story was so shit.”

Dan shrugs. “Jonatton promised I could eventually write the real story, but Nori on a cover sells magazines…”

“Don’t you ever feel like you’re selling your soul, working for Jonatton?” she asks, because it is something she often wonders. 

“Why do you think Jonatton is always throwing parties?” Dan asks. “No one could work there and be sober. At least when Teddy was there…”

Sasha had never met Teddy, but she well remembers his dramatic suicide and the endless media coverage that followed. 

“Were you close to Teddy?”

For a moment Dan is lost in thought, and despite his idiotic hair and clothes that look like they were pulled directly from a skip in the seventies, he looks like someone Sasha could be interested in. Down the line. Way, way down the line.

The mask falls back into place before Dan gives an indifferent shrug and says, “Not really.”

Sasha is tempted to spend some time trying to get to know the real Dan Ashcroft, but she has learned to keep her guard up with men. Any effort at friendship will likely end up being thrown in her face the first time she says “no,” so she quickly excuses herself. Dan makes a half-hearted effort to keep her, but he is lost in whatever thoughts are lurking under his stupid hair. Sasha wants to know more about Nori, and she’s getting increasingly curious about Teddy, but until something better comes along, she works at Sugar Ape and she has to be careful how she treads with the men there. Dan possibly has a sensitive soul, but it is currently encased in the body of a complete tit.


	4. Chapter 4

2014

Claire is chewing before she even realizes she has grabbed another crisp from the packet.

“What is wrong with me?” she grumbles to herself. “I can’t stop eating garbage. No wonder my clothes are getting tight.”

“No complaints here,” pipes in Nathan, apparently appearing out of thin air. “I like the way your clothes are fitting.”

Claire throws a crisp at Nathan and rolls her eyes, but accepts the boorish compliment, because she isn’t feeling her best. She has been exhausted for weeks and no amount of caffeine can get her energized. She has been in editing mode for two months and the sedentary life is getting to her. She loves the process of filming and is far too much of a self-admitted control freak to let someone else do the editing, but she is eager to be back out in the field. 

“But you should watch it,” Nathan adds as he pulls the bag of crisps away. “Not all that weight is going to your tits and arse, you know. You don’t want to get all…” Nathan fills his cheeks with air and mimes having a beach ball-like physique.

Claire counts to ten before responding, “And that is why you will never touch my tits and arse again. You’re such a pig, Nathan.”

Nathan looks wounded. “But I said you don’t want to get all fat. You’re not fat yet, just a little…”

“I am two seconds from ripping your dick off and letting you get a blowjob from the paper shredder.”

“That time of the month?” Nathan asks, as though pleading for Claire to actually murder him. “Do you want me to go buy some chocolate and tampons or something?”

Despite his idiocy, Claire recognizes the sincerity of his peace offering. In the years they’ve worked together, he has often run the kind of errands for Claire that men generally find uncomfortable. Getting Dan to buy her medicine for a yeast infection was like trying to teach a dog to knit, with the big difference being that no one would watch a Youtube video of Dan buying five types of vaginal anti-fungal creams. It was just sad.

And Claire is having her period and she is, in fact, feeling bloated and cranky, so she lets Nathan off the hook for the moment.

“How about you shut up and give me the new footage?”

Nathan eagerly accepts the peace offering.

“Sasha looks amazing for a woman her age…” 

“For fuck’s sake, Nathan. She’s forty. That isn’t old.”

Nathan gives a weak nod of agreement. “Yeah, a woman in her forties… guys love that.”

“You’re thirty-six!”

“But I’m a man. It’s different.”

There is no point denying that Nathan has made a valid point. Nathan is a chauvinist and asshole and an excellent barometer of the political air around him. He and Claire are nearly the same age, but he is a young man and Claire is apparently about to hobble her way to the old folks home.

“Let’s get back to the footage. We need to get this stupid ‘revistory’ out of the way so I can get back to making films that matter.”

“Should we get some footage of you?” Nathan asks with what passes for a thoughtful look on his face. “Not now, obviously. You need to do something with your hair and get some make-up on, and we’ll need some really good lighting…”

“I never worked at Sugar Ape, this has nothing to do with me. And I am wearing make-up, and my hair is supposed to look like this. Asshole.”

“But you’ve been hanging out with the Sugar Ape crowd since you were a kid. I’ve seen some footage of you when you were sixteen and…”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Nathan.”

“….and now you do freelance work for them. And you know Dan better than anyone but Jones. Of course, Jones knows a different side of Dan, the one only he and Dan’s proctologist know…”

Nathan easily dodges the bottle of water hurled at his head, but he takes the hint to stop talking about Dan’s sex life. No one is happier for Dan and Jones than Claire, nor is anyone more confused. There were times in Dan’s life where he’d lamented being stubbornly heterosexual, and yet his first properly committed relationship is with another man.

“What do you know about Teddy Bayer?” Nathan asks, causing Claire to give a guilty start. 

“Nothing. What? I never met him.”

Nathan narrows his eyes. “What are you hiding from me, Nummy Muff?”

“Fuck off and let’s watch the footage.”

“First you wouldn’t talk about Mina, now…”

“I am not my brother’s personal biographer!” Claire yells through a mouth full of crisps, shooting crumbs onto the editing screen. “Let’s just get back to work.”

1996

Dan tries to look relaxed and cocky, but he’s late on his assignment and he submitted a drinks bill to his expense account that was… questionable. Dan Ashcroft is far too cool to worry about being yelled at by his boss, so he is at a loss to explain the beads of sweat on his forehead.

“Have you ever been in love, Dan?” Teddy asks. Dan suddenly feels like he’s in a movie. Based on the films he has seen, he is relatively certain he about to learn Teddy Bayer’s secret identity. Dan crosses his fingers for superhero, rather than government agent. Politics has never been Dan’s forte. 

“Um, well… No.” It is an oddly embarrassing admission. Dan had girlfriends growing up, but since Sugar Ape, there have only been intoxicated hook-ups and awkward mornings. Dan is certain he is capable of falling madly in love, but it hasn’t happened yet. There has been deep fondness, for sure, but no one he wouldn’t walk away from to advance his career. Dan Ashcroft believes in love. He isn’t sure he believes that anything is forever, but he does not see it in a cynical way; rather, he believes love is as transient as anything in life and should be appreciated all the more for its impermanence. 

But that he is closer to thirty than twenty and has never fallen in love gives Dan pause and cause to wonder if there isn’t something wrong with him.

“Me neither,” Teddy sighs as he pours two glasses of Scotch. Dan looks at the photos around Teddy’s office of Teddy with his wife and children, but knows better than to comment. Dan knows what it feels like to know he should love someone.

“Some people fall in love so easily,” Teddy sighs as he hands Dan a drink, which Dan gratefully takes. It takes considerable self-control to sip the expensive single malt rather than shoot it straight down his throat. He is far too sober for waxing philosophical with his boss.

“It’s so easy for some people,” Teddy reiterates as he places a clammy hand on Dan’s shoulder. The hand instantly makes Dan uncomfortable, even before it travels down to his chest. Dan drains his drink and closes his eyes, waiting for the moment to be over. Apparently, his reaction is sufficiently awkward, because Teddy takes his hand away.

“I love this magazine, Dan. I really do. It’s everything to me.”

“It’s everything to me, too,” Dan says. The Scotch has already loosened his tongue and made him forget to feign detachment. “It’s all I ever wanted. I don’t know what I’d do… who I would be without Sugar Ape.”

Teddy stares at Dan far too long, and Dan desperately hopes there will not be another awkward advance. The fact remains that if Teddy demanded a blowie, Dan would be on his knees in a heartbeat because every word he said about needing Sugar Ape was true, but there’s no way he’s going to be able to handle anything resembling a seduction. 

Teddy stands behind Dan’s chair and puts his hands on Dan’s shoulders, gently massaging them.

“You should meet a nice girl and settle down,” Teddy suggests.

“Like you?” Dan asks before he thinks better of challenging his employer, but Teddy just laughs a weak and dry laugh.

“Like me. Think of all the things you can learn from me, Dan Ashcroft.”

Dan is grateful when Teddy finally sends him back to the Sugar Ape party. He dives into a bottle of whiskey and doesn’t come up for air until he is literally under a table, barely aware of the screams and the wail of sirens.


	5. Chapter 5

Jones finishes his fourth fauxhawk of the week, and it requires no effort for him to look tired of living. Everyone wants to be daring in the exact same way, and it is breaking Jones. For a while, he seemed to be growing numb to the monotony and inanity, but his heart refuses to turn to stone. Every once in a while, he gives a haircut that makes him feel proud and excited, but most of his days are spent churning out mediocrity. 

“Next,” he mumbles into his headset. Then he waits for his next sheep in need of a high-end shearing.

He is surprised when Dan Ashcroft drops into his seat. Dan’s blond highlights are still looking fresh, and his curls are softly moussed to perfection on his forehead.

“You’re back early,” Jones observes as he fluffs the front of Dan’s hair. “Is it starting to cover your eyes? That can be a problem for a writer, I reckon. Most people in Shoreditch don’t mind being blind, but you actually need to look at stuff.”

Dan twitches and shifts in his chair as though he is sitting on needles. “No, it’s fine, I just… I could use a change. Something different. Really, really different.”

Jones has been doing Dan’s hair for over two years, and he’s not sure how ‘different’ he can get at this point. He’s given Dan every complicated and time-consuming style under the sun, and Dan has continued to pay up without blinking an eye. 

“We can change the color…”

“Yes. Do that. A really different color, though. Not blue or purple. Something different. I just want…” Dan scrubs at his eyes and forehead. “Different.”

Like everyone, Jones knows about the rather spectacular suicide of Sugar Ape’s editor, but his instinct tells him not to bring it up too quickly. He’s gotten to know Dan fairly well over the years. It takes Dan a while to drop the fast-talking bravado and actually speak like a real person.

“Blond,” Jones suggests.

Dan shrugs and repeats, “Blond.”

Xxx

It took ages to give Dan his blond highlights, and turning his whole head blond isn’t any easier. His hair is dark and slow to bleach. Fortunately, it is fairly thin, or Jones would never finish by closing.

Dan has been in Jones’s chair for an hour when he finally speaks.

“I think Teddy tried to make a move on me.”

“When was that?” Jones asks, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“About two hours before he jumped off the roof.”

There are a dozen things that Jones wants to say, but nothing that seems useful or helpful or not completely stupid.

“What kind of move?” he asks, opting to gather a bit of information before making a statement. 

“He just…” Dan awkwardly tries to fondle his own chest, so Jones offers his hand for illustration. Jones is passive as Dan moves his hand from Dan’s shoulder to his chest and makes a small circle. It isn’t overtly sexual, but Jones feels a flush in his cheeks.

Jones pulls his hand back a bit too quickly and says, “Well, that’s… awkward. Has he… Did he ever make a move before that night?”

“No,” Dan says emphatically, as though he’s on trial. “That is to say, he never made a move like that. Sometimes he was a little flirtatious… and I encouraged that.”

Jones watches in silence as Dan wrestles with whatever demons are resting under his beautifully coiffed hair. Unlike many of his clients, Jones has always been able to see the layers of Dan Ashcroft. There’s a healthy crust of indulged man-child, but there’s a good heart under his ironic t-shirts. Jones was the first person to hear the real story of Nori when Dan came to him in a similar state, desperate to unburden himself. To Jones’s knowledge, Dan has yet to tell anyone else, other than his sister who ‘badgered’ it out of Dan when the ‘Mina’ article was published. Despite their age difference, Jones gets the feeling Dan and his little sister have one of those freaky connections like you sometimes see in identical twins.

“I wasn’t trying to play games with him,” Dan explains in a rush. “I was flirting a bit to get the job and to keep the job, and to try and get my expense reports approved, and… fuck.”

“You know none of this has anything to do with why he killed himself, right?”

Dan nods his head, but avoids Jones’s eyes in the mirror. “I know that, but I keep thinking… He made this gesture and I could have taken the opportunity to make a human connection, and instead I just wanted to get pissed and not deal with it. I should have talked to him.”

“Dan, this…” Jones wags his finger between their bodies, “is making a connection. This…” Jones grabs Dan’s left tit, “is giving your employee a feel-up. You can’t blame yourself for not being able to read his mind. He didn’t ask you for help. Maybe he didn’t want help.”

Dan continues to look at his chest after Jones has already removed his hand, and Jones finds himself feeling strangely guilty. He’s not immune to Dan’s charms, but when at work, he tries to keep those kinds of feelings under lock and key. People flirt with Jones all day long as he does their hair. He works for tips and is therefore a safe object of affection. He could never reject a client, unless of course they tried to take it beyond the flirtation stage.

But sometimes he finds himself outside of work, thinking about Dan and his long-fingered hands and his Northern accent and his way of bouncing between pompous tit and sad-eyed philosopher.

“Thanks, Jones,” Dan says softly. “I know it has nothing to do with me, but…”

Jones puts his hand on Dan’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze. He can see and feel Dan tense up and then relax under his hand.

“It’s been messing with my head, just thinking about… everything.”

“I’m sure you’ll feel better when I have you looking like…” Jones’s brain rejects mentioning Kurt Cobain and scrambles to think of a famous platinum blond who hadn’t either committed suicide or died a grisly death. 

“Courtney Love,” Dan supplies. 

Jones wants to say something reassuring and kind, but he’s at a loss. 

“Maybe when we’re done, I’ll buy you some cake. You know, let you have most of it.”  
Xxx

The coffee shop doesn’t have cake, so they order a pie and tear into it like animals while chatting about trivial nonsense. They talk about everything but the reason they’re there, even as the small television screen in the corner displays coverage on the ‘shocking suicide’ of Teddy Bayer and speculates on the resemblance between Shoreditch and Rome before it fell. They avoid real conversation and stick to comparing vices and music preferences. 

Jones finds himself staring too intently at Dan’s lips as Dan lights yet another fag. 

“The blond hair looks good on you,” Jones lies. It doesn’t look terrible, but Dan looks best with his regular brown curls. 

Dan shrugs. “Does it matter if looks good? It just has to be a noteworthy change. You can’t just walk around Sugar Ape looking like yourself.”

“Why not?”

“Because if there is a real you to know, then people start trying to get at that real person.” Dan gives a slight shiver. “It’s better to give people what they want.”

“Once, I listened to ‘Live Through This’ on acid, and it was the realest experience I ever had. I really thought Courtney Love was God, for about twelve hours.”

Dan rakes his fingers through his hair.

“Anyone can be God for twelve hours. By the way, can I get that pager number off of you? I could really use a break from reality.”

Jones writes down his acid contact and thinks about the song “Doll Parts.” He is still on the fence about whether he likes the song or not, but he is certain he will forever associate it with Dan. He also thinks he should get some dolls for his DJ setup. They would probably add a bit of flair. He’s always enjoyed pop art. Maybe that’s what’s missing from his DJ sets: something to show the world a bit of himself without actually giving anything away.


	6. Chapter 6

2014

Nathan turns the screen slightly, in case Claire gets nosey. She is currently hard at work editing her package for Doug Rocket and devouring an order of chips. Nathan watches her lick the grease and salt from her fingers with a strange mixture of arousal and disgust. 

Nathan scans the article for relevant information.

“What’s the name of that birth control patch you use?” Nathan asks in as nonchalant a tone as he can manage.

“None of your fucking business,” Claire snaps with a mouth full of chips.

“Yeah? wants me to do a package on new birth control methods, and I don’t know about that shit. I leave that up to the lady.”

Claire rolls her eyes. “Don’t I know it. It’s called Yes!, with an exclamation mark. I was happy with it, but I’m having some side effects lately. I’m thinking of trying something else.”

Nathan debates showing her the screen, but it isn’t a conversation he is ready to have. He needs to get his Sugar Ape revistory done before he can deal with Claire screaming and having a fit. He is a freelancer and technically his own man, but he has grown accustomed to his steady Sugar Ape payment and he needs to protect that relationship. 

He’s likely to need the money soon enough.

Nathan closes the “Hundreds Sue over Faulty Birth Control Patch” screen and brings up an image of Dan on a couch with his legs spread wide and an unidentifiable person between his thighs.

“Is this really GiGi Love?” he asks, turning the screen towards Claire.

Claire glances over and roars, “Nathan!”

“C’mon, sugar tits. I know you know.”

Nathan remembers the scandal well. It was the first time he’d heard the name Dan Ashcroft. Gigi Love had been a minor pop star, before the pic had been released and she’d gone to rehab. Later, her scandal would be overshadowed by full-length celebrity sex tapes, but Nathan had never forgotten his first view of a celebrity engaged in a sex act. For all the hours he’d spent staring at the glossy black and white image (while wanking), Nathan was surprised by how badly he’d misremembered the photo. He remembered clearly seeing the elegant arch of Gigi’s eyebrow and the curve of her breasts under her skintight t-shirt. In reality, all that can be seen of Dan’s partner is hair and part of one shoulder.

Claire already looks guilty, and she shoves more chips in her mouth. It is only a matter of time before she cracks. 

“Who’s really sucking Preach’s cock here?” 

1996

Jones stares at his tables, terrified of looking up. The crowd is finally filling out, which means his part of the gig is nearly over. When the crowd is in full swing, the famous DJ will take over, but it is still by far the largest crowd Jones has ever played to. Most of them are oblivious to the music. They’re posing and preening for cameras and angling their way into the coolest circles and (as always) searching for the best drugs. He is part of the pre-party warm up, adding to the illusion that this is an actual rave and not a fully staged publicity event. The pseudo-rave is as cynical as anything to ever come out of Sugar Ape, but Jones is looking forward to a night of free drugs in a relatively controlled environment. It does not hurt that Dan will be there.

Jones keeps scanning the audience for the Northerner. Dan will wander in late, with all the other people who matter. Jones wonders if Dan still has to make an effort to be fashionably late or if he has fallen into a routine and just knows when it is time to finally roll in. Jones has never been good at artifice, but Stanley Knives has taught him a lot about the effort required to be cool. Even now, he feels no urge to smile or laugh, despite feeling giddy with excitement. As soon as Jones walked into Sugar Ape, he felt the corners of his mouth go down naturally, like the weight of the world was resting on his face. 

But a smile threatens to ruin his carefully crafted image when he spies Dan stumbling through the door. Dan’s hair is back to its original color, but with blue, purple, and pink streaks that subtly catch the light during the day, but that glow in the black light along with Dan’s white button-down shirt. The effect is made all the more ridiculous by the fact that Dan’s shirt looks like it has been buttoned by a five-year-old. Half of his shirt hangs a good two inches lower than the other half, and it is bunched up where Dan has skipped a buttonhole. Dan looks like a drunken, debauched mess, and Jones can’t help but imagine the erotic events that might have led to Dan having to dress so quickly and carelessly. Perhaps he had it off in the cab on his way to the party. Jones scans Dan’s entourage for a likely partner. As far as he knows, Dan only gets off with women, but Jones has not gotten the impression that Dan is following any hard and fast rules when it comes to sexuality. It may be wishful thinking on Jones’s part. Dan is a flirtatious drunk, and he has come to Stanley Knives more than once while half in the bag from a Sugar Ape “business lunch.” Cocaine makes Dan nervous and paranoid, but booze makes him loose and romantic. Drunk Dan has gone on record saying that he thinks Jones has beautiful eyes and a nice arse. He has also declared his love for Scary Spice, but Jones picks and chooses what he wants to hear. 

It is a foolish and pointless crush, but Jones doesn’t have much going on in his love life. He works all day and all night. There is no time for friends or lovers, just clients in his chair during the day and sweaty, blissed out faces dancing in his periphery at night. 

Dan is being physically supported by two colleagues. Sasha is supporting Dan with an aggrieved expression that suggests that if there were any erotic adventures being had, she was not a part of them. On the other side is the intern, Ned Smanks. Ned came to Sugar Ape an earnest overachiever from Cambridge, but he is morphing into a new person. Jones is fascinated by the transformation. He wonders how much of it is an act and Ned trying to be cooler and more accessible to fit in with his new crowd, and how much of it is the result of the massive amounts of drugs he consumes. 

Jones is intrigued by the idea of a little adventuring between Dan and Ned, and he feels his cheeks pink when Ned runs a hand over Dan’s stomach, but it looks to be stoned mateyness rather than anything illicit.

When Dan finally looks up at Jones, his face breaks into a dazzling grin and Jones’s knees feel wobbly. Dan shakes off his supports and staggers to the tables, looking like a baby deer taking its first steps. He throws his arm around Jones and nearly knocks them both to the floor.

“Open wide,” Dan slurs directly into Jones’s ear, and Jones doesn’t hesitate to open his mouth. He has dry-swallowed plenty of E in his life, but Dan is already shoving a flask to his mouth. Jones chokes down the vodka and yells, “E?” just to be sure.

Dan replies, “Mostly!” before dancing away into the crowd. The real DJ will likely take over before Jones really feels any effect, but he chugs the rest of his lukewarm coffee to help him keep focused, just in case. He can’t afford to fuck up the gig.


	7. Chapter 7

Jones hates to leave the tables, but He has arrived, and He is the hottest DJ in Shoreditch. He still sweeps hair at Stanley Knives as some kind of performance art. He’s technically skilled and reads a room better than anyone Jones has seen. Jones tends to get lost in the moment and forgets to keep the crowd involved. Jones will scratch and bend a note until everyone stops dancing and just stares. 

Jones searches the crowd for Dan’s glowing streaks and ends up walking into his chest. 

Jones stares as Dan slowly licks his lips before speaking: “Mmmmm, Jonesy.”

Dan puts his hands on Jones’s hips and begins to slowly sway, clearly dancing to the music in his head rather than what is screaming from the speakers. The room is full of glow sticks, but it is the glowing highlights in Dan’s hair that keep Jones fascinated. The trails of light give Dan a halo effect.

“You’re glowing,” Jones announces before he can think better of it. Dan laughs and pulls a glowing pacifier out of his pocket and sticks it in his mouth. Jones isn’t sure if he’s supposed to laugh, but the sight of Dan sucking on a neon rubber comforter sends all the blood rushing away from Jones’s brain.

“Where did you get that?” Jones asks as he resumes swaying with Dan.

“Some’un gabe it ta me…” Dan mumbles before taking the pacifier out and continuing. “Said I have an oral fixation.”

That Jones’s mind goes to cigarettes instead of sex is a tribute to how much Dan smokes.

“I could do a piece on people who dress like babies,” Dan giggles. “I could infiltrate their ranks…”

Dan puts the comforter back in his mouth and shiftily looks around at the other dancers before dissolving into giggles once again.

“What are you on?” Jones asks as he strokes Dan’s hollowed cheek. 

Dan shrugs and rubs his cheek against Jones’s hand like a cat. “I think there’s some LSD in the ecstasy, and I had a bump in the car, and the vodka…”

Jones pulls on Dan’s neck until he is close enough to kiss. Dan will surely be dead in a year at his current pace, and Jones does not want to miss his chance. It is a brief kiss, but Jones feels sure he will remember the feel of Dan’s lips forever. Or at least until the E wears off.

Dan moves his mouth as though to ask a question, but he doesn’t speak. Jones stares at Dan’s hair and watches the way it moves with the light. Or perhaps Dan’s hair is staying still and it’s Jones that is moving. It’s a tough call.

“Jones…”

Jones waits for more words, but instead there is only more kissing – gentle and exploratory at first and then increasingly more desperate and passionate. Jones tries to fuse himself to Dan’s body, Dan’s hard cock pressed to Jones’s belly while Jones presses his own hard-on against Dan’s leg. He moans as Dan’s hands move over his arse, until a flash of light nearly blinds him. Jones covers his eyes and stumbles blindly as Dan pulls him across the dance floor. When his vision returns, Jones drags Dan down onto an uncomfortable but sleek-looking red couch. There is another woman on the couch, but there is plenty of room and she seems thoroughly entranced by the glow sticks sellotaped to her fingers. Jones straddles Dan’s lap and continues to explore his mouth. He runs his tongue over a metal filling until Dan pushes him away, laughing.

“I knew you were into freaky shit,” Dan purrs. He slides his big hands along Jones’s hips and Jones finds himself rocking back and forth, rubbing his cock on Dan’s general crotch area. He can’t seem to control the desperate noises he’s making, despite keeping his mouth firmly shut. He feels completely transparent. 

“I have never met a man like you,” Dan says as he eyes Jones with a wolfish look.

Jones kisses his way down Dan’s neck, undoing the poorly-buttoned shirt on his way. Dan curses when Jones sucks and licks his nipples. Jones has often wondered what Dan would sound like in the throes of sexual ecstasy, and he is not disappointed. Dan is squirming, moaning, and turning the air blue, and Jones hasn’t yet moved past playing with his tits. 

When Jones kisses Dan’s stomach, Dan moans, “Oh, fuck me, this is good shit.”

Occasional blinding lights make it difficult to see as Jones fumbles with Dan’s trousers, but when he manages to get Dan’s cock out, he hears a few appreciative noises that echo his own. He looks around, but it is impossible to see more than a few feet ahead in the dark. Jones does his best to shield Dan’s exposed cock as he slides to the floor between the Northerner’s splayed legs. He nuzzles Dan’s balls and covers them with kisses, feeling wildly romantic and desperately in love. Jones loves E, because it makes him want to fall in love with, and fuck, the entire world, but it’s even better with Dan. Dan, who is caressing his hair and sighing and looking like a wanton heroine from a trashy romance novel. When Jones finally takes Dan’s cock in his mouth, the Northerner groans loudly and Jones again hears others moaning as if in response. He tries to use his arms and hair to keep Dan covered as he sucks his cock, but all too soon, Dan is pulling at his shoulders and telling him to stop. Jones is disappointed, but allows himself to be dragged to his feet. 

Dan yells, “Fuck off, Smanks,” for what is surely the fifth time, but it finally registers in Jones’s brain. Ned Smanks is sitting on the couch with a digital camera in his hand. Jones senses a connection between Ned and the flashes of light that have been blinding him, but his brain isn’t quite able to put two and two together. He is all too happy to allow Dan to drag him out of the club and into a cab, where they can resume their amorous adventures in peace.

2014

Dan fumbles with his phone, trying to turn off the alarm, before hurling it against the wall. The phone is nearly bulletproof—a “gift” from Sugar Ape so Dan could no longer pretend to be unreachable—so it falls to the floor silent, but undamaged. In five minutes, it will begin beeping again. The alarm on the phone was set when Dan received it, and not even Claire has been able to work out how to unset it. Dan is certain Jonatton Yeah? has various programs locked so that he can further control Dan’s life. It isn’t paranoia when the world has repeatedly assured you that it is, in fact, out to get you.

Dan curls himself around Jones, using the smaller man as a teddy bear, while he prepares himself for another day. Since finally saying the words, “Do you, um… Well, would you… Do you want to just share a bed? All the time?” to Jones, Dan’s life has become immeasurably better, but harder to stomach. Having something like a proper relationship with Jones, with regular sex and snogging, makes life seem so much more worth living, and yet everything else about Dan’s life is complete and utter shite. Dan has always suspected that letting a little bit of contentment into his life would be his undoing, and he was right.

But spooning Jones is worth it. Dan buries his face in his lover’s crunchy hair and inhales the scent of sweat and hairspray. Jones makes a sleepy noise and wiggles his rear end against Dan’s early morning erection. Even asleep, Jones is perpetually up for just about anything. Jones knew Dan at his most (fauxhawked and tribal tattooed) unbearable, at his most fragile and confused, and at his most pathetic and broken states of being, but he has chosen to stay part of Dan’s life. He took Dan into his home after Dan’s first breakdown, nursed him through his second, and got on his knees and prayed with Dan the night before. Neither Dan nor Jones are religious men, but they prayed to any available deity that Claire’s recent weight gain, the article Sasha showed Dan about defective birth control patches, and Claire’s “special project” with Nathan four months earlier are unrelated incidents. If Claire has gotten knocked up by some random hook-up, Dan is ready to do everything he can to support her, short of providing money or actually touching a baby, but he cannot handle a permanent tie to Nathan Barley. Surely, Dan has already paid the price for being a twat. He tried to be the King of Shoreditch and life has bitch-slapped him until he’s been on his knees, begging for mercy. The only person Dan hates more than his younger self is Nathan Barley. 

He doesn’t want to buy Christmas presents for Nathan Barley’s children. He doesn’t want Nathan Barley to reproduce.

Dan groans as his phone resumes its beeping. Jones opens his eyes and smiles the warm, unguarded smile that has haunted Dan’s sleep for years.

“Time for work,” Jones murmurs. 

Dan holds Jones tighter. Jones laughs and pries one of Dan’s hands away from his waist and moves it a bit lower. “We’ve got a bit of time, if you don’t mind skipping a shower.”

As though Dan had actually planned on showering.


	8. Chapter 8

2014

Jonatton Yeah? does not see himself as a cynic, he sees himself as a pragmatist. He would love to be a proper journalist and bravely hunt down the truth in order to take down the oligarchs, but people aren’t really into that anymore. Journalism has died and quietly been replaced with Infotainment. Once Jonatton figured out the rules of the game, he played it like a champ, but Dan Ashcroft has yet to learn the rules. He has yet to figure out that there are rules. Dan is still locked in his Shoreditch prison, never realizing that the door is unlocked and the guards are all doing Ketamine with internet famous vloggers.

“Gigi Love is writing a book,” Jonatton announces after allowing Dan a moment to stew in his chair. Dan hates being called into Jonatton’s office, yet he never refuses. There was a time when Jonatton enjoyed torturing his overly earnest underling, but now it is more habit than anything. 

Dan rolls his eyes. “What is it now?”

“She has a lot of things to get off of her highly photographed chest. She has sins for which to atone.”

Dan wrinkles his nose in a childish show of disdain. “Why should I care what that human train wreck is writing about?”

Jonatton savors the moment, watching Dan’s face twitch with building, impotent anger.

Before Gigi Love, Dan Ashcroft had a color-coded filing system. He had been the most fastidious researcher at Sugar Ape. Dan had been the human equivalent of Google for his lazy coworkers. If they had wanted to know something, they asked Dan, who would then not be able to function until he tracked down the answer. Dan’s grandiose, neurotic weirdo writing voice had always been cooler than actual Dan. 

Jonatton had had a bit of a crush on Dan back in the day, before Dan had gone over the deep end. He fancied eager Dan.

Jonatton sips his cucumber-infused water. 

“Word is, she doesn’t remember sucking your cock. Thinks it might not have been her after all…”

Dan isn’t quite trembling with rage, but he seems well on his way.

“She threatened my family, Jones, my career, my whole fucking future…”

“Yeah, she’s sorry about that.” Jonatton says with a shrug. “She was in the throes of addiction…”

“Look at me,” Dan says with an expression of such sincere despair that Jonatton feels a stab of pity. As much as Dan is the author of his own tragedy, there is no denying that the Gigi incident broke something in the writer. While Jones appears to have given up on reality all together and taken refuge in music and a myriad of substances, Dan is nearly incapable of forgetting the things that make him unhappy. No amount of booze can drown the part of Dan that still believes there should be a purpose to his writing; it can only drown Dan’s creativity. 

Dan slowly shakes his head, lost in his own thoughts. 

“You can write about what really happened now,” Jonatton suggests. “About everything. Nori is ancient history, Gigi’s using her scandalous past to try and make a comeback. You can write about it all.”

“About what? The mid-nineties?”

“About you. The disastrous downfall of Dan. The story of how this,” Jonatton holds up a picture of young Dan with sharp cheekbones, clear eyes and blond highlights, “turned into… well, you.”

Dan frowns, but there is something in his eyes that makes Jonatton smile, though it certainly reads as a smirk from the outside. 

“Spin your tale of woe, Dan Ashcroft. Give the idiots another reason to love you.”

Dan slouches further into his seat and Jonatton regrets the joke, but he can’t stomach an effort to make it right or try and cheer Dan up. Sugar Ape isn’t just his place of employment, it’s in Jonatton’s bones, and he can’t afford to go soft while print media is in danger of disappearing altogether. Miserable fuck Dan appeals to the millennials. They like his bleak and misanthropic ramblings. 

“You already sold your soul, Dan. Here’s your chance to make some money off it.”

Jonatton smiles as Dan stumbles back to his desk, looking too burdened by the world to hold his head up. Jonatton pours himself a drink to toast Dan’s new article. Based on the misery radiating from Dan’s back, it looks like a good one. 

1997 

Dan’s face is ashen, and Jonatton feels sorry for him. Not sorry enough to feed into his self-righteous hissy fit, but sorry none the less.

“But it’s bullshit! I never touched that… gah!” Dan has a tendency to seize up and become completely inarticulate when he is emotional. Jonatton is disturbed by the recent turn of events, but not so disturbed he cannot be amused by Dan’s inability to form a complete sentence.

“Why are you smirking? This isn’t funny! This guy knew all about my parents and my sister. Who the fuck threatens a person over something like this? Why does she want people thinking she’s sucking my cock?”

Jonatton tries to look somber. Months earlier, Dan had been in his office screaming because Sugar Ape had run a tastefully tinted photo of Dan getting a blowjob from Jones at an office party. Dan has his head thrown back and can barely be seen, Jones’s face is completely covered by his hair, and there is no actual cock visible. Jonatton maintains that the shot is harmless. 

Jonatton has seen all of the pictures Ned Smanks took that night. All of them. There are close ups of Jones’s mouth pressed to wiry pubic hair as he takes Dan down his throat. There are shots of Dan’s face, twisted in pleasure. There’s a full body shot of Dan and Jones with a blissed out girl with glow sticks sellotaped to her fingers, watching them go at it. Jonatton had had plenty of shots to choose from, but he’d gone with a tasteful and artistic shot. No one outside of Sugar Ape had any reason to believe it was anything but a staged photo. A bit of Sugar Ape cheekiness. It was an inside joke, and Dan’s fury was an amusing by-product.

Then came Gigi Love. Gigi was a regular feature in Sugar Ape. Her music was dull and ordinary, but she had a great look and was always good for a racy quote. Even Jonatton had been surprised when Gigi publicly demanded Sugar Ape recall the issue, weeping in interviews about her humiliation. Jonatton had wondered if she was actually losing her mind when the legal proceedings began. 

But Gigi was not trying to suppress the image, she was trying to keep Sugar Ape and its employees from commenting on the photo. Jonatton Yeah? appreciated the cynicism it took to not only pretend to be sucking off a stranger in a magazine, but to actively prevent the truth from coming to light. Dan accused Jonatton of not having a soul, but he felt like Holden Caulfield next to Gigi’s PR machine.

“The truth is overrated, Danny. It’s not like you’d be doing yourself any favors by outing yourself as gay.”

“I’m not gay, I’m… I guess maybe I’m bi…” Dan’s face twists in an expression of deep thought as he tries to sort out his sexuality. Dan is impossibly young. 

“Take it from me, Dan. No one is bisexual. You’re either a gay man in denial or a heterosexual looking for attention by playing gay. Neither is good for your career.”

“You’re bisexual. Right?” Dan asks with complete sincerity. Impossibly young for being so close to thirty.

“Yeah, and that’s how I know you can’t be bisexual. Trust me, I’ve had it all explained to me many times.”

Jonatton appreciates the sympathetic look on Dan’s face. Dan Ashcroft is a good egg. He cares about people, the truth, and the concept of fairness. Jonatton does not like to see Dan having his face shoved into the real world.

Well, maybe he enjoys it a little, because Dan is also a pretentious prig, but mostly, Jonatton wishes there was something he could do to shield the writer’s naivete. But Gigi’s people are pulling out all the stops.

“No one wants to hear the truth. No one will believe you anyway. Just let this drama play out and ride the tide. Enjoy the notoriety.”

Dan pulls at the collar of his shirt as though it is choking him.

“I can’t breathe. I can’t sleep. He said they have the other photos and they’ll publish them… It’s bullshit, right?”

Jonatton shrugs. As far as he knows, no one but he and Ned have seen the photos, but Ned Smanks is constantly high and there are plenty of people at Sugar Ape who would be happy to take Dan down a peg. He is fairly certain all of the threats from Gigi’s camp are bullshit, but he cannot be sure.

“The way they went after Jones…” Dan says softly, shaking his head. “What if they do go after Claire? She’s so sure she knows everything. She’s just a kid.”

“Don’t give them a reason to go after her. Let Gigi have her publicity. It doesn’t matter. It’s all bullshit.”

Dan slumps in his seat and looks utterly defeated. Jonatton is relieved that Dan is opting to keep quiet - nothing good would come of Dan fighting a publicity stunt put together by a major recording label - but he can’t help being a tiny bit disappointed.


End file.
